


I am weak, and therefore fold

by riverbluesbear



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aged Up Carl, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Carl Grimes, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mafia AU, Slow Burn, Sort Of, Top Negan (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverbluesbear/pseuds/riverbluesbear
Summary: Carl knew Negan, knew who he was; knew what he was capable of. He knew of the blood that was under his fingertips and the flesh torn by his baseball bat, and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from the Mafia boss that held his family's fate in his calloused hands.Or: Carl Grimes finds himself thrown into the life of a Mafia Don thanks to his father and can't seem to find it in himself to hate the brutal, but charismatic leader. Instead, he finds himself drawn to Negan like no one else before, and the crazy part? The older man feels the same way.





	1. End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first story on here, so I hope it'll work out! I don't have a beta, but hopefully there aren't too many mistakes. I've gone over it a few times, hoping it's perfect (or at least near there!)
> 
> This is a stupid AU that I've been thinking about, and I know there are other Mafia AU's like this, but this is my take on it. Carl is eighteen-years-old in this, so there is no underage activity, and there will be sexual content in the future of this fic, so if that freaks you out, I encourage you to leave now. Don't worry, I won't be mad! :)
> 
> Also, I know my writing style is a little different than most people's, so it might take a little while to get used to, but I do hope you come to like it :)
> 
> Finally, the title comes from a lyric in my favorite Keaton Henson song, "Small Hands". If you haven't listened to him before, please give him a try! He is absolutely fantastic! And every chapter title comes from a song from one of my favorite bands, "Boy and Bear". If you haven't already, please give them a listen as well! They're wonderful :)
> 
> Please enjoy the story!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl knew Negan, knew who he was; knew what he was capable of. He knew of the blood that was under his fingertips and the flesh torn by his baseball bat, and yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from the Mafia boss that held his family's fate in his calloused hands.
> 
> Or: Carl Grimes finds himself thrown into the life of a Mafia Don thanks to his father and can't seem to find it in himself to hate the brutal, but charismatic leader, and instead finds himself drawn to him like no one else before, and the crazy part? The older man feels the same way.

Carl Grimes would rate his life, if he had to, at above average. Sure, his parent's divoce was rather messy, and the whole situation involving Judith is muddled, but on the whole, Carl really has nothing to complain about. His father, while somewhat absent, is well-meaning and kind, and his step-mother, Michonne, has been nothing but supportive and loving ever since she came into their lives. Judith is a precocious and bubbly little sister who thinks the world of her older brother, and he lives in a three-story house with two cars and a garage.

  
Everything in his life is almost picture perfect; Rick is the hard-working town sheriff, Michonne is the local gallery owner with a few commissions under her belt, and Carl is a straight-A student with three really close friends. Everything on the outside seems so perfect. It's when someone really digs in, really takes a close look, when the facade fades away, and everything falls apart.  


~.~  


  
Carl Grimes, (5'8", cropped dark brown hair, light blue eyes, lean build), is usually a polite and respectful son. Does his homework straight after school, picks up his room, and plays tea-party with Judy more than expected out of an eighteen-year-old. Still, he did have his moments where he wasn't as perfect as many thought, and right now, hiding behind the kitchen wall, listening in on his parents, was one of them.

  
"Rick, talk to me." There's a pause, ever so slight, before she continues. "You can trust me on this."

  
"God, Michonne," Rick's voice is hoarse, wrecked even, and sounds worse than it ever had. Even worse than he sounded when he found out his wife of fifteen years had cheated on him. It doesn't do anything but pique Carl's curiousity, and the teen peeks out from his hiding place to eye his father.

  
Rick Grimes, (5'10", wavy dark brown hair, curling down at the nape of his neck, same piercing blue eyes), looks more defeated than Carl has ever seen him in his life. His normally tan skin is pale, his eyes sunken in, face almost gaunt. Carl knows the crime level in Atlanta had been growing, but it seemed it had finally taken its toll on his father. Rick runs his hands over his face, through the knots of his hair, letting out a deep sigh.

  
"I-I can't tell you how fucking _sorry_ I am, baby." Rick's eyes, previously on the floor, finally focus on his wife. "I was so worried about you and Carl and Jude, I just acted without thinking, and now it's all comin' back to bite us in the ass."  
Michonne, (5'7", wide, chocolate brown eyes, long black dreadlocks, pushed off of her face, dark brown skin that caught the light perfectly), grabs Rick's face gently between her painter's hands, rough with calluses, but soft with intent, and rubs his cheekbone with her thumb.

  
"I'm not angry over Negan or any of that bullshit. We'll deal with him, and we'll get through it, together." A gentle smile comes over her face, brightening her eyes and adding to her startling beauty. 

  
"I'm angry that you didn't consult me. I'm your wife, Rick, and this is my family you put in danger. And more than that, you put _yourself_ in danger." She lowers her voice, just slightly. "What if Negan thought you were a narc and killed you right on sight? He's a _Don_ and the most dangerous one in Atlanta. And you just waltzing into his operation was so rash and so dumb and so unlike you."

  
Rick brings a well-worn hand up, and cradles one of Michonne's, still resting on his cheek. "I know, 'Chonne." His eyes close, brow furrowing. "Jesus, I know. More than anyone. But I was desperate. I still am. There's a huge human-trafficking ring now, focused on women and children. How could I not freak out? One of the attacks happened just down the road from us. All I could think, day in and day out was what if you were kidnapped? Taken away from me? What if Carl was shipped off to some fucker in another country, never heard from again? What if Judith-" Rick stops, his voice cracking.

  
Michonne steps closer to him, pressing her forehead against his, forcing his eyes to open once again; deep brown on bright blue.  
"I don't blame you. I know you were scared and you were just thinking about us. I know you're used to handling everything on your own, Rick. But I'm here now, and I will protect our children with everything in me. From those traffickers and from Negan. We'll get through this, I promise, but you have to swear to me that you will involve me in whatever happens after this. When I married you, I made a vow to stick with you through the good times, and through the times where you're a fucking idiot, okay?"

  
Rick lets out a laugh, a weak, wet sound, and nods, overcome with emotion; love, mostly, for his wife. "I swear to you, Michonne."  
He leans and kisses her, a passionate a slow kiss, the kind that leaves nothing to the imagination. Through that kiss, even from his position, Carl knows how much love and respect Rick has for his wife, and is jealous and resentful of it. Jealous because, in his eighteen years of life, he has never once felt that kind of passion for someone, and resentful, because Rick had never been that way with Lori. And though Carl agrees with their divorce, it still stings that they were never _that_ in love.

  
Michonne pulls back, her lips shiny, and a red flush decorating her high cheekbones. "Go take a shower. You look like hell."

  
Rick huffs out a laugh, one that sounds more like his own, and nods, lumbering up the stairs. As soon as the bathroom door closes, Michonne has a smirk on her face.

  
"Get out here, Carl Grimes."

  
_Shit._

  
It's the first thought that crosses his mind, before Carl comes out of his hiding spot and walks toward Michonne, his head down low.  
"Michonne, I-"

  
She gently puts her hands up, stopping the teen from talking more. "I know you're curious, Carl, so I'll be as blunt as possible: Rick and the whole department were desperate for answers about this trafficking ring. They have absolutely no leads and more and more people are disappearing and becoming involved."

  
Michonne sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, a gesture that reminds Carl so much of Rick. "He contacted Negan Creed, the Don of The Saviors, that huge mafia family, to help out the police. He'd keep Negan and his people safe from police interference, and Negan would get information and weed out the bad guys."

  
Carl shifs from one foot to the other, trying to process this. He can understand it from some standpoint: Rick was desperate and needed answers, so he found someone who could provide it. Was it dumb? Yes. Was it necessary? Maybe so.  


"So why're we in danger now?" Carl asks.

"One of Negan's men traveled outside of Georgia for an errand and was caught. Their local police are hounding him now, and it's outside of Rick jurisdiction, but Negan doesn't seem to get that. One of his guys roughed up Rick and told him Negan would be paying him a visit soon."

  
Carl's eyes widen. "Is he gonna kill Dad?"

  
Michonne sighs, running a hand on her face, like Rick had earlier. "I don't think so. Rick has done a pretty good job so far of protecting Negan's men from trouble, and this is only his first "mistake", so I think Negan will let him live. I just think he might hurt him."  


"And you're _okay_ with that?! We gotta do something to stop him!"

  
Michonne puts her hands on her hips. "And what do you suppose we do to combat the most powerful kingpin in Atlanta, huh? Our hands are tied!" She sighs, looking at her son head-on. "Look, I'm telling you all of this, because you're eighteen-years-old, and I think you're ready for it. And also because you need to stay alert and to protect your sister if they do end up coming. Whatever happens, you need to keep a cool head and watch your sister at all times. Do you understand me?"

  
Michonne steps forward, clasping Carl's hands in hers. "You may not be my biological son," She begins, her voice low, but powerful with emotion, "but you are my son is every possible way and I love you so, so much, just as I love Judith, and if something were to happen to you two, I would never, _ever_ forgive myself, and the same goes for your father." There's a pause as Michonne collects herself. "I'm hoping he comes by while Jude's in daycare and you're at school, but on the off-chance that he's not, I need you to keep your head on straight and be aware not only of him, but of yourself. Do you understand?"

  
Carls nods, stepping forward and placing a slow, meaningful kiss on her forehead. "Of course, Mom." Michonne lets out a shuddering breath, and wraps her arms around her son, holding him tight. Carl rarely calls Michonne Mom, but when he does, he means it with all of his heart and soul.  


While in her arms, Carl feels safe and protected, knowing she will do whatever she can to protect him, and he the same for her, so in that moment, everything is perfect.

~.~

  


The peace lasted only a few more days, until a seemingly normal Tuesday afternoon came to a screeching halt.

  
Carl, from school, only has a twenty minute walk, and enjoys the cool breeze that joined the November weather, and the chance to calm down and unwind from the tension and pressure from school. When approaching his cream-colored house, he notices one new car in his driveway, next to Rick's police car, and Michonne's dark blue car. It's tall and black with tinted windows and a cool sheen that has goosebumps rise on his skin. He immediately knows who is there, and starts to take deep breaths. He knows he's about to meet possibly the most powerful man he has ever met in his life, but he is determined to make himself ready; for his family.  


He turns the door knob and walks in.


	2. Walk the Wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl and Negan meet, and sexual tension ensues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you to The_Sanctuary for reviewing! It means so much that you did and it made my night! (As well as making me so excited that I wrote as fast as I could and updated so soon, haha) and thank you to all those who bookmarked and left a kudos! It really means a lot!
> 
> Hopefully I did their meeting justice! I really wanted it to have a lot of sexual tension as well as just regular tension from Negan being such an unreliable guy and that we have no idea what goes on in that mind of his!
> 
> I hope you all like it and enjoy the read! :)

When Carl walks through his front door, he's not sure what he's expecting, but silence surely wasn't it. He toes off his beat-up black tennis shoes, and walks further into his eerily quiet house. Judith isn't even running around, shrieking about how great pre-k is, which sets Carl even more on edge.

  
He slowly approaches his living room, walking slowly, not making a sound. Though he wants to call out for his parents, he doesn't want to alert anyone who might be -- well, at this point, is _definitely_ in the house. Michonne finally comes into view, stock still, her long hair clipped up, showing off her beautiful face, with a protective arm over her daughter.

  
Rick is glaring up at someone, who Carl still can't see, his whole body tense, holding the hand of his wife, his knuckles clenched so tight, they're white and almost translucent against her ebony skin.

  
Judith Grimes, (five-years-old, light brown hair to her shoulders, expressive, wide hazel eyes), notices Carl first. She jumps up and off of Michonne's lap before Michonne can stop her, and runs up to him.

  
"Carl! Uncle Negan is here! C'mon, let's go see 'im! He said I can have a pony ride! Did ya know ponies are small horses? _I_ didn't!" Judith carries on, talking a mile a minute as she drags Carl into the living room. His eyes immediately fall onto "Uncle" Negan, and it feels as though all the air has been sucked out of his body.

  
Negan Creed, (6'2", broad-shouldered with strong arms and a flat stomach, greased back hair and a greying beard), stands tall with his arms crossed over his wide chest, making his forearms practically bulge. Carl knew being a Don meant you had to be intimidating, but this man was the most sexy, confident man he had ever seen in his life, and he hadn't even opened his mouth yet.

  
Negan's eyes, a hazel made up of more brown than green, finally drop down to Judith and Carl feels like he can finally breathe again, if rougher than before.

  
"That's right, angel. Uncle Negan's got tons of ponies you can play with, but only if Daddy keeps up his end of the deal." Negan grins and looks back at Carl. "Maybe your big brother can come play too. Wouldn't that be _real nice_?"

  
His voice is dripping in innuendo that flies over Judith's head as she nods excitedly in agreement, but Carl's body feels like it's on fire and he swallows hard.

  
"Don't bring her into this," He manages to say, his voice sounding a lot stronger than he feels.

"Carl!" Rick exclaims, sitting up straighter.

  
Negan doesn't look offended in the least. In fact, he looks delighted. "Hey, ease up, pops. Let the kid speak, yeah?"

  
Carl puffs out his chest, just a tiny bit more. "Judith isn't involved in this. Whatever's goin' on between you and my dad should stay that way. Don't call yourself "Uncle Negan" and play nice when you're threatening to kill my dad."

  
Negan's smile only grows bigger, wide and predatory, and saunters forward, looking like the cat who ate the canary.

  
"Well, butter my biscuits!" He grins, stepping into Carl's space, looming over him. Carl's world is tunneled just down to Negan. To his minty breath and startling white teeth, to the slicked back black hair speckled with grey that only adds to his looks and charm. "Looks like you've got more balls than your daddy does, don't you, Carl?"

  
Carl sucks in a sharp breath at the way Negan's deep voice says his name with such reverence, he feels it to his core.

  
"And what if I do?" Carl challenges confidently, even though on the inside, he is anything but confident.

  
Before Negan can answer, Judith tugs on Negan's fitted leather jacket, angry that the attention of the room as been shifted from her for so long.

  
"Uncle Negan." She says, almost in a whine. "Can Carl ride the pony too?"

  
Negan bends down and swiftly swings Judith into his arms, making her squeal in delight. "Ya know, babydoll, I don't think I have a pony big enough for Carl to ride, but I know of somethin' _else_ he can ride."

  
Negan's eyes are back on his, dark with lust and light with promise that has Carl's pulse racing. Carl licks his lips unconsciously, and watches as Negan's eyes darken further, entranced.

  
Rick suddenly stands up, breaking the spell. "Step the hell away from him, Negan. This has gone on long enough. Cut the bullshit." He yanks Carl away from Negan and moves to take Judith, but Negan is too fast and steps out of his way, tightening his hold on her.

  
"Hey now, I'm just bein' polite here, Rick. No need to get your fuckin' panties in a twist, yeah?" He bounces Judith up once, making the girl laugh. "She likes me well and enough, and your boy here..." He trails off, staring at Carl again while Carl desperately tries to forget how right he felt pinned underneath the Don's sultry gaze.

  
"Negan, I'm warning you-"

  
Negan's grin finally falls from his face and his handsome mask has fallen away to reveal just how much Rick's remark pissed him off.

Carl, instead of being afraid however, takes a step forward, drawn to the man's furrowed brow and red-tinted skin. Drawn to how powerful he looks, and how much this power suits him more than any leather jacket can.

  
Negan sets Judith down. "You go on upstairs, sweet pea, with your momma and brother. This is a conversation for the men in this house."

  
Judith nods, understanding through Negan's tone-of-voice, that play time is over. Michonne gathers her in her arms and holds out a graceful hand to Carl to take. Carl shakes his head no, and turns back to Negan, holding firm in his place.

"I'm stayin' here."

  
Negan, without looking away from Rick, scoffs. "I don't know if ya heard me, boy, but I'll make it crystal-fuckin'-clear. This is a conversation for _the men in this house_."

  
"And I don't know if _you_ heard _me_ , but I'm. Stayin'. _Here_."  
Negan straightens out and looks at Carl for a few moments, his eyes travelling up and down Carl's lean figure, for a hint of weakness or uncertainty, but doesn't find any. As scared as Carl is, he wants to know what's going on. He's tired of being treated as a child even though he's eighteen now. And more than that, as much as he wants to deny it, he doesn't want to leave Negan right now. He's intimidated by the man, yes, but more than anything, he's intrigued by the man before him. He wants to know more about him; anything and everything about him, and doesn't want to miss a second of it.

  
When Michonne realizes Carl is allowed to stay by Negan, she quietly takes Judith upstairs to her room and closes the door behind them. When Judith's favorite CD comes on, her Batman Theme Song one, and starts filtering out through her room, Negan starts speaking again.

  
"Sit on the couch. Both of you."

  
Rick and Carl sit on the black leather couch, each on one end, and watch Negan with wary eyes, tracking his every move as the charismatic man paces the floor.

  
"Now Rick, I don't know if ya noticed or not, but I was bein' real fuckin' polite back there, but obviously, you didn't really appreciate that, did you?" He pauses slightly, but not long enough where Rick can answer, and continues on. "No, instead you decide to fuckin' threaten me. _Me_! And I was lookin' to forgive you for what happened to Dwight, really I was, but there's one thing I can't fuckin' _stand_ , Rick, and that's disrespect."

  
"You were comin' onto my son!" Rick yells, free to, now that Judith's music is playing and she can't here him.

  
Negan actually looks offended by that. "Hey now, officer, I only flirt with those who want it too. I ain't no rapist. Let's get that out there right now. I'm not some fuckin' lunatic that gets his prick wet by unwilling participants. Your kid looked like he was ready to drop to his knees for me." Negan suddenly turns to him, his eyes bright, voice dripping sweetly, like honey. "Weren't you, _sweetheart_?"

  
Carl's face burns, but he doesn't look away, and instead faces the asshole head on, even if he wants the Earth to swallow him up whole.  
Negan chuckles, a rich sound that lights Carl up from the inside out. "Ya got balls, kid. I'll give ya that. More than daddy dearest has over here."Negan rubs his nose before he looks serious again. "Let's cut the bullshit, fellas. You fucked up, Rick. You told me my men were gonna be safe from any police investigation, and now I've got the blue bloods sniffing their way into my whole operation. We took out how many of those fuckers you asked us to, and this is how you pay me back?"

  
"I _told_ you. I can only protect you when you're under _my_ jurisdiction. If you stay in Georgia with your business, I can pretty much guarantee I'll have your back. There are a lot of neighboring precinct that owe me some favors that I can call in. But, if you're outside of Georgia like Dwight was, my voice holds no power, Negan. I can call in and bullshit a little, maybe see if I can get them to drop the charges if I promise to take care of him here, but I can't safely say that they'll let me do that." Rick's voice sounds tired, as though he has fought that battle many times before, and he has.

  
Negan clenches and unclenches his jaw a few times, and Carl watches in fascination as the strong bone structure flexes and his breathing picks up again. No matter what the man does, Carl can't seem to get enough of watching him, and trying to drink it all in.

  
Negan sighs. "Well, Rick, that's real fuckin' unfortunate, but you know I'm gonna have to make an _example_ out of ya now."

Carl's blood runs cold.

No.

  
_No._

  
"Are you fuckin' _kidding_ me?!" Carl exclaims, jumping off from the couch.

  
Rick jumps up, too, grabbing Carl's arm, but he snatches it back and stomps toward Negan, getting into the man's face. Negan's face is a mixture of amused, which only serves to piss him off, and interested, which throws Carl slightly off-guard, but isn't enough to keep him from backing off.

  
"He just _told_ you it was out of his hands and you're gonna punish him? If you kill him, do you think anyone else from the department is gonna wanna offer you protection when you killed their sheriff over something so fucking _stupid_?"

  
"It ain't stupid, kid, it's business. Dwight's gettin' questioned and it's ruinin' our whole operation, which means our business is slowin' down, which means I can't go and take out the human traffickers that's got your daddy's panties all in a twist."

  
Carl scoffs. "Then hire more people to do your dirty work for you. It's not like there's a shortage of people willin' to work for the Mafia in exchange for protection for their family. Besides, aren't you getting to be too _old_ to go out killin' people?"

  
" _Jesus_ , Carl!" Rick swears, but Negan doesn't seem to pay his outburst any attention. Instead, his eyes are still on Carl's, looking absolutely fucking thrilled.

  
"Hey, you're right, kid. There's _gotta_ be some strong-willed, stubborn shit-head that's willing to work for the Mafia in exchange for the protection of their family, _right_?"

  
Carl lets out a slow breath of air, closing his eyes. He just walked into this, didn't he? He feels Negan step closer, can smell the cologne, all woodsy and pure musk, from his shirt as he crowds all of Carl's senses.

  
"Whaddya say, cowboy?" Negan whispers into Carl's ear, low and sensuous. "You gonna work for me? Do whatever I say?" His voice drops even lower, if that's possible. "Be a _good boy_ for me?"

  
Carl lets out a shuddering breath, almost falling forward as his knees grow weak, but he's determined to stand as tall as possible, even if he might be getting a boner in the process.

  
"No-fuckin'-way, Negan!" Rick growls, before Carl has a chance to answer. The spell is broken, and Negan steps away from Carl, looking annoyed that Rick ruined their moment. "You are not makin' my son work for you!"

  
Negan grins again, moving his arms to clasp behind his head, making him look far more relaxed than the situation is calling for.  
"He's eighteen, ain't he? Means he's old enough to make his own decisions, right?" Silence fills the air after that, and before long, Negan nods, seemingly coming to a decision on his own. He clasps Rick on the shoulder, like how friends to do each other, instead of enemies.   
"Tell ya what, Rick. Since I'm such a nice guy, I'll give Carl here three days to decide what he wants to do. If he works for me, I'll let this little...bump in the road slide, and business will carry on like usual. If he doesn't, you get to meet Lucille and get well acquainted with her." Negan grins, oozing confidence and charm again, and damn, if it doesn't get Carl going. "Sound like a deal?"

  
Rick looks to Carl, pleadingly, but when he sees his son stubbornly keeping his eyes trained on Negan in a glare, he sighs, a tremulous thing, and nods.

  
"It's a deal."

  
Negan looks back to Carl and smiles that predatory grin again, sending goosebumps all up and down Carl's arms. The worst part about them is that he can't seem to hate them as much as he should, and instead feels a thrill go through him when Negan looks at him like that, rather than dread most others would feel.

  
"See you in three days then, sweetheart." Negan winks.

  
And like that, Negan saunters out of their house leaving behind only shaking bodies and a cloud of that enticing cologne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know in a review how you liked it and if I could do anything better! I did end up heavily revising chapter one because there were so many tense issues, so please do let me know if you see any here, or any other kind of mistake, for that matter!
> 
> Anyway, I think next chapter might be from Negan's perspective, but who knows? :) See you next time!
> 
> Cheers!


	3. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carl gets a much needed pep-talk from a good friend, and bumps into you-know-who late at night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Thank you so much for all the kudos, bookmarks, and reviews! I love each and every one and they all mean the world to me, and I'm so happy you've enjoyed the story so far! :D
> 
> So, three things:
> 
> First: This is not a Negan chapter like I thought it was going to be, but instead, it's another Carl chapter. In fact, I'm not sure if I'm even ever going to write a Negan chapter. I don't know...what do you all think?
> 
> Second: This chapter introduces two new characters, one of which is my absolute FAVORITE in the whole entire series, so I really hope I captured her character correctly and did her justice, because she means so much to me, and because she has a big part in this story, pertaining to Carl, mostly.
> 
> And finally, the smut warning is in place! WHOOPS. I totally did not think it was gonna happen this soon, but then I was writing, and it just started happening, so I rolled with it lol. I really hope it's not bad or anything, because it is my first time writing smut, so I'm worried it came out super horrible lol
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy the story and drop a comment to let me know what you think!
> 
> Cheers!

Carl knows he's being followed.

He can't tell if Negan thinks he's being sneaky, or if he's purposefully being so noticeable to keep Carl on edge, but Carl has a sneaking feeling it's the latter. Negan's huge black car with the tinted windows is everywhere Carl is: outside of his high school, his house, Sophia's house, the park; everywhere Carl goes, he hears the rumble of Negan's engine, feels his hazel eyes following him, smells his cologne, though he knew that was impossible.

Carl tries to ignore it; tries to play the part of the ignorant teenager who doesn't notice the imposing car, and if he dresses up a little bit, shows off more skin than he's used to showing, well, that's his own damn business.

Carl, however, isn't the only one who noticed however, and is stopped from leaving Sophia's house two nights after Negan's initial visit. He's over at Sophia's, to do a project together, but they ended up bullshitting and watching TV together instead. As Carl starts to leave, putting his shoes on in their muted foyer, he's stopped by the sweet voice of Sophia's mother, Carol.

Carol Peletier-Dixon, (5'6", texturized grey hair, bright blue eyes outlined in black eyeliner, kind smile), is the perfect mixture of strong and vulnerable that he's never seen in another person. She's maternal, but still gives off a vibe of being able to kick your ass into next week if anyone threatens her husband or daughter. And knowing Daryl, her husband, Carl knows he would get a kick out of watching his wife beat the shit outta somebody.

"Carl, would you like to tell me why there's been a running car parked outside of my house all day that I've never seen before?" She asks, her voice kind, but demanding at the same time, and holding no room for bullshit. Carl, in the middle of tying his fraying laces, pauses.

 _Shit_.

He thinks about lying, but Carol has a better bullshit detector than all of Georgia's police force, so he sighs, putting his head into his hands.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me, Carol." He mumbles through his hands. When he's met with silence, he finally peeks up, and sees Carol smiling her soft smile, the one he's sure her husband fell in love with.

"C'mon, get in the kitchen. Let's talk about it." When Carl just looks at her, she laughs. "You're workin' yourself into a stew, Carl, and I hate to see you like that. Not only that, but this seems serious, and if you're bringin' it to _my_ house, and puttin' _my_ family in danger, I wanna know all about it. So, c'mon."

She ushers Carl into her small kitchen, decorated in dark wood panelling and black and white tiles on the floor. He plops down on one of the chairs at the round wooden table, his favorite chair with the beat-up pink cushion to sit on, while she putters in the kitchen, making tea. For a few moments, he closes his eyes, and lets the noises of Carol preparing the tea lull him into full relaxation.

Ever since Negan visited the Grimes' home, it's been full of nothing but tension, especially between Carl and Rick. Michonne, on some level, understood her son's hesitation to say no to such a powerful man, though she thought it was because of fear, and not the reasons Carl is afraid of admitting out loud. Rick, on the other hand, had been constantly on top of his son, wanting to know his whereabouts and if he had made a decision yet, which kept the eighteen-year-old on edge. So being able to stretch out and smell the brewing of Earl Grey tea has Carl relaxing in a way he hadn't been able to for two days.

Carl opens his eyes when Carol sets down a small blue and white porcelain tea cup with ornate patterns on it. Steam is billowing smoothly from the top of it, and just watching it twirl in the air helps to ease Carl's anxiety about confiding to Carol.

It isn't that Carl doesn't trust Carol, because he does. He's known Carol and Sophia since he was five-years-old and met Sophia in kindergarten. Carol, Lori, his mother, and Rick all became fast friends, and she quickly supported Rick through the affair and subsequent divorce thereafter. Likewise, Rick was the cop who ended up getting Carol out of her abusive marriage and helped her through that. Carol ended up being like a second mother to Carl throughout his entire life, so he isn't afraid that she'll go off and tell the whole town his family's business, it really comes down to what she'll think about the situation on a personal level.

He doesn't want to disappoint her, and he doesn't want her to take Sophia away from him, since Sophia is his best friend, but honestly, he wouldn't blame her if she did. His eyes are still trained on the table, his pointer finger tracing the rim of his teacup, deep in his thoughts and tangled in his nerves.

Carol finally breaks the silence. "I know that whatever the situation is, it can't be good, Carl," She begins, sipping at her tea delicately, "but I'm also worried about you. All day, you kept glancing out of the window at that car. You looked torn between running away from it and running toward it."

Carl closes his eyes at that, because it's exactly it. He's not sure what to do about any of it. His attraction toward Negan, and his attraction to Negan's lifestyle. Carl has always felt a pull toward a more violent part of life, one that Rick would absolutely refuse for his son, so Carl's repressed it. Shoved it deep down and tried to forget about it. But meeting Negan, having his rough voice in his ear, his cologne in his nose, his face in his memory, all of it is coming back up. His desire to _learn_ more, to _be_ more, to do _more_ ; he wants to be as powerful and awe-inducing as Negan, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

Carl starts when he feels Carol's hand holding his, and doesn't realize he's shaking until his eyes lock onto their hands. He looks up at her, feeling more weak and vulnerable than he has in his entire life, and he doesn't know what to do, because he feels so raw.

"You know I won't judge you, sweetheart. I love you like my own son, and I'm more worried about you than whatever that threat is."

"It's...dad made a deal...with Negan Creed."

Carol's face remains passive. "The Don of The Saviors?"

"Yeah." Carl clears his throat, looking anywhere but the crystal blue eyes of Carol. "One of his guys ended up getting busted in Florida and dad couldn't get him out of it, and Negan got pissed. And now he wants me to take his guy's place as payment for my dad, or else Negan'll probably kill him."

He lets the words sink in the air, watching Carol's face closely as she takes it all in. Her face is still warm and inviting, no disgust crossing it, or anger, just a thoughtful look, like she was really thinking about what he said with no judgement, rather than just freaking out like he knew his parents would.

"You want to take the job," Carol starts slowly, as if she's working through her thoughts aloud, "but you're afraid of what it might do to your relationship with your family, because your reasons for taking it aren't as selfless as they might appear. Is that right?"

The statement causes the air to be knocked right from his lungs, because she's so _right_ and for the past two days, ever since Negan left, he's been trying to deny it. Trying to forget how Negan called him _sweetheart_ and how his minty breath felt against his face, and how he wants to feel Negan's stubble between his thighs.

"Y-Yeah..." He admits.

Carol gives him a gentle smile with no trace of judgement or pity in it. Just a sympathetic smile from one friend to another. "You know what's best for you, Carl, and what's best for your family. You've already decided however long ago he was there, that you were going to take the job, but you didn't want to admit why." She pauses, looking at him seriously again. 

"I understand why you're so tormented by this, I do. Negan is powerful and handsome and rich, and he has a tighter hold on all of Atlanta than the mayor does. He poses a threat, but if you're on his side, you get his protection, and his attention." She licks her lips, thinking about it for a moment. "Carl, at the end of the day, the most important thing is what _you_ want. If _you_ want to be a part of this lifestyle, then you will be, because you're stubborn as all get-out and I know nothing will stop you for joining him."

She sighs, taking another sip of her tea. "Just be careful and don't bite off more than you can chew. I know you're the son of a cop and he's probably taught you how to shoot a gun and other tricks to get the "bad guys" down and unarmed, but this is the _Mafia_ , and I need you to understand the dangerous reality of what you've put yourself in. Yes, Rick ultimately started this whole mess, but once you tell Negan you're in, it's _your_ situation, and you need to know how big of a target you're going to become."

Carl nods, grateful to Carol and the reality check she just gave him. Yes, the Mafia sounded cool and glamourous, and he got caught up in thinking he would help fight off the creeps and live in luxury with Negan, but the reality was, the Mafia was a dark place full of things Carl had yet to see, and Negan was a Don. He has most certainly killed people in cold blood, and has done things that Carl would never even _dream_ of doing. He's scared of Negan, of what he has done and what he can do, but the thought of only seeing Negan just that one time scares him more.

He wants to see Negan again. He wants to hear that rumbling, smoky voice. He wants to see him smile again, and hear his deep, rich laugh that starts in his belly and bubbles out through his throat. Maybe Negan was just teasing Carl, pretending to flirt with him, but Carl is undeniably attracted to him, and his lifestyle. Carl, more than anything, is excited to see who he can be, who he can amount to while in the Mafia. He wants to see the glitz and the glamour, but also the _grit_ of it all as well.

"I-I want to do this, Carol." He says quietly. "I know that it makes me fucked up, but I just want to be a part of it all, you know?"

She smiles sweetly, squeezing his hands. "Yeah, honey, I know." Her eyes flick toward the clock that reads nine-thirty, and gets up from her chair. "I oughta get you home now, before Rick calls me freaking out." Carl gets up too, gulping down the rest of his now-cold tea.

"Thanks, Carol, for the talk." He pauses, looking down at his beat-up shoes. "If...if you don't want me hangin' 'round Sophia anymore because of this, I understand."

"You've been Sophia's best friend for thirteen years, Carl. If you think Negan and his merry band of gun-slingers is gonna keep you two from being best friends, then he's got another thing comin'." She grins when Carl huffs out a surprised laugh. "Of _course_ you can still see Sophia. I just need you to be careful about it, alright?"

Carl nods. "Yeah, of course."

She smiles. "Now then. I've gotta clean up, so Daryl can give you a ride home." She cranes her head ever so slightly near the doorway that leads into the living room. "Daryl, if you're still eavesdropping, which I know you are, Carl needs a ride home." There's a low curse before Carl hears movement, then finally sees Daryl, Carol's husband, shuffles into the room.

Daryl Peletier-Dixon, (5'10", shaggy dark brown hair, light, narrowed blue eyes, broad shoulders with a lean build), gives Carl a short nod as a hello, before leaning close to Carol, giving her a soft, but lingering kiss on her cheek, leaving her with a radiant smile and rosy cheeks.

Daryl coughs, his cheeks as red as Carol's, embarrassed that Carl saw him his her. "Let's go, kid. Ain't got all night." He walks off toward the foyer, leaving Carl and Carol behind.

Carl can't help but be amused. Even after all these years, Daryl is still uncomfortable with most people's company. Rick and Daryl are best friends at this point, and he's friends with Michonne, who's now Carol's best friend, so he's around Carl's family a lot, but he's still a little reserved and really only seems to blossom when he's around his wife and daughter. And since Daryl's arrival into her family, Sophia refuses to acknowledge Ed, her father, as her father, at this point. She calls Daryl dad and won't even talk about Ed if he's mentioned, which Carl can understand, since the guy was a wife-beating lunatic.

Carol steps close to Carl, breaking him from his thoughts, and gives him a strong hug full of love and support.

"Everything will be okay, sweetheart," She reassures. "Just make smart decisions, and always come talk to me if you start to feel confused."

Carl bites his lip. "Are you going to tell Sophia?"

Carol laughs a bit, shaking her head. "She has as much stealth as her father. She's been listening in this whole time, so she and I're gonna have a talk after this to fill her in on what's going on."

"I-I don't know how to thank you, Carol," Carl says, his voice rough with emotion. "You've been such a great help tonight even when I've been putting you guys in danger."

"You're my child just as much as Sophia is, Carl. I just want you to be safe and smart, okay?"

Carl nods, taking a deep breath. "Okay."

"C'mon, I already offered once. I ain't gonna do it again." Daryl's gruff voice breaks their moment, and the man all but stomps away, and Carl and Carol share an amused smile before he turns and walks out of her house.

The car ride with Daryl is quiet, as expected, but a nice break for Carl to think about his thoughts. He can't see Negan's car behind Daryl's anymore, which is a bit of a relief, as well as a disappointment. He's glad he can have a clear mind without Negan being _right_ _there_ behind him, but he's also a little sad that Negan isn't there, observing Carl and his every move.

Daryl finally stops in front of Carl's nice house with the perfectly manicured lawn, but before he can thank Daryl and get out of his beat-up truck, Daryl stops him.

"Look kid, I ain't judging what ya get into. That's your business, not mine. But if you comin' to our house get my girls put in danger, then I'm gonna hafta ask ya to not come over anymore." Daryl sighs, picking absently at his frayed jeans. "Ain't nothin' 'gainst ya, 'cause ya know I like ya just fine, and your dad's one of my best friends, but Carol and Sophia come first in my life, and if your business with Negan and his people get them in trouble, well, it ain't gonna be the Mafia ya hafta worry 'bout, understand?"

Carl feels like he _should_ _be_ angry. Like he _should_ protest and say how unfair that is, but he knows Daryl's right. By saying yes to Negan, he's putting everyone he knows and loves in danger. All for a man who may or may not even be attracted to Carl. It might have all been a game to Negan, to flirt with the sheriff's son to get under Rick's skin, but Carl still wants to take that chance and find out, even if that means being selfish and possibly hurting his friends and family.

But Carl is tired of supressing those urges he's had for so long. He wants to let them out and be himself, and he feels like with Negan, he can, just like how Rick can be himself with Michonne, or Daryl with Carol. So Carl nods at Daryl, agreeing with him one hundred percent.

"I understand."

"Alright then. Now get out and go to bed." Daryl dismisses him, but Carl knows it's Daryl's way of saying stay safe, and he appreciates it all the same. He finally gets out of Daryl's truck and watches him drive away down the road. When he can no longer see Daryl's truck, he turns to go inside when he sees Negan's truck parked right where Daryl's car was.

It would be so easy to pretend he doesn't see the car. Carl could just turn and walk inside of his house, toe off his shoes, kiss his parents goodnight, check on Judith, and go to bed. He can pretend his heart isn't racing a mile a minute, with the faintest traces of arousal coursing through his body, but instead, he steels himself, and walks toward the car, purposefully swaying his hips ever so slightly as he does.

When he approaches the tinted window, it rolls down, revealing Negan with a shit-eating grin on his face, a lit cigarette lying limp in his mouth.

"Well hey there, cowboy, long time no see."

Carl rolls his eyes, feeling false confidence, and letting it ooze out of him. "You've been following me everywhere since you left my house two days ago, Negan, so it really hasn't been _that_ long."

Negan laughs, looking delighted. "I _knew_ ya noticed me, kid!"

"It wasn't like your huge black car with the loud engine and tinted windows was hard to miss." Carl deadpans.

Negan scoots closer the the window, now rolled all the way down, and gets almost right into Carl's face and lowers his voice into something sinful. "Did ya dress up for me, knowing I was watching you?" He asks, his voice a low rumble.

"Yes," Carl says just as low, being unable to lie.

Negan lets out a breath at that, looking pleased. "If I were to give ya something to wear right now, would you wear it tomorrow, and let everyone know just who bought it for you?"

Carl's breath hitches. "Depends. If it's sexy, then I'll only wear it for you. There's no competition for my attention, and you know that."

Negan grins, slow and lazy, but still sexy at the same time. "Still nice to hear though, stroke the ole ego."

Carl licks his lips. "Did ya really buy me something?"

"Yeah baby, but you can only have it if you join us."

Carl's mind almost goes blank at Negan calling him _baby_ , but he forces himself to pull it together.

"You already know my answer, asshole," Carl says, but with no real bite. "You've known since you propositioned me."

"Lemme here you say it."

"No."

At that, Negan steps out of the still-running car, looming over Carl. Carl's breath starts to go faster, though it's not out of fear, not in the slightest. Negan bends down, so his mouth is right next to Carl's ear again, puffing out hot, wet air against it, making Carl feel like he's about to pass out from the heavy wave of arousal that suddenly flows over him.

"Say it, Carl." He demands. "Say you'll be a savior with me. Say you'll be my right hand and help me. Say you'll be _mine_."

Carl's head falls forward onto Negan's shoulder as he feels a full-body shudder go through him at Negan's powerful words. "Negan..." He whines, bucking his hips against Negan without even thinking about it. Negan lets out a growl in response, grinding his thigh against Carl's erection. "Ngh.." Carl lets out a low moan at the friction it creates. " _Please_."

"Please what, Carl?" Negan asks, still pressing his knee into Carl, making the boy keen in the most delicious way possible. "Tell me what you want."

Carl stumbles forward, closer to Negan, if that's even possible, letting his head fall into the juncture of Negan's shoulder and neck, getting better access to rut against Negan.

"Ahh...make me cum, _please_." He moans desperately. "Please..I can't take it..." He's so hard, tears have sprung in his eyes, his hips twinging in pain, his breathing labored. "Make me _yours_ , please."

"Yes." Negan groans in response. His hands unbuttons Carl's jeans quickly, and goes inside his boxers to grab at Carl's cock, sticky with precome, and hot in his hand. Negan starts stroking him, hard and fast, wanting to see Carl come apart as quickly as possible, knowing Carl is almost there from the way the boy is rutting into his hand.

"Ngh...feels so _good_ , Negan." Carl whispers his name like a prayer as he edges closer and closer to orgasm. He's chasing it with clumsy movements of his hips, but he knows Negan is loving with, with the way the older man is clinging to hip just as hard, grinding his hardness onto Carl's thigh.

"C'mon, baby, cum for me, let me see you come apart for me."

"Yes!" Carl cries, gripping Negan's forearms so tightly, he hopes they'll bruise. "Only for you, just for _you_."

Negan practically preens at that, pushing even harder into Carl's thigh, rubbing fast, as his hand starts to ache from stroking Carl so hard and so fast.

"Mine. All mine." He growls. "Gonna make you cum all over my fist right in front of your house, is that what you want?" Carl nods desperately in response into his shoulder. "Mmm...make you cum while your parents are inside watching TV, not knowing their prefect little son is such a _whore_."

"Aghn!" Carl's hips stutter, once, twice, before he comes all over Negan's hand and black shirt, moanly loudly. "Yes... _Negan_..." Feeling Carl climax pushes Negan over the edge, and he grunts in Carl's ear, the hottest sound Carl has ever heard, as Negan cums in his pants like a fuckin' teenager.

They stand like that, in their almost-embrace for a while, while Carl calms down and stops his shaking while Negan pets his hair through it, singing his praises, though his "praises" are calling Carl his "good little whore". Once Carl is finally calmed down, Negan starts cleaning them up, giving Carl a hude grin.

"Damn, the sheriff's son is into some kinky shit, ain't he?"

"Shut the fuck up, asshole," Carl says with a matching grin on his face. "So, when do I start my job so you can stop stalking me?"

"And miss out on watchin' that perky ass strut around? No-fuckin'-way."

Carl rolls his eyes. " _When do I start_?" He asks again, making sure he sounds like he means business.

"In a few days, kid. Lemme sort out my shit, then you'll start. And just know, just because you're pretty when ya cum, doesn't mean I'm gonna go easy on ya and give ya a small workload, understand."

And Carl does _not_ preen at being called  _pretty_. He does-fucking- _not_.

"Crystal clear, boss."

Negan grins, his eyes crinkling in a way that has Carl's chest feel warm and his heart being way too fast.

"Eh, boss doesn't do much for me. Maybe sir." Negan thinks about it for a second. "Daddy might be better though."

Carl takes a deep inhale when Negan says _daddy_ , loving the way the innocent word sounds so dirty in Negan's mouth. He's hoping Negan didn't notice, but by the man's quirked eyebrow, he can tell that was just wishful thinking.

"Ya like that, huh? Gotta keep that in mind for next time." Negan steps back into his car and closes the door. Carl steps back to the window. "I'll be outside of your house when I'm ready for ya to start, so be here and don't keep me waitin', got it?"

Carl nods, feeling more excited than he had ever felt in his life. Negan grins again and salutes him as a goodbye, and Carl watches as the car drives away, feeling nervous, sated, and excited all at once.

When he tries to go to bed that night, he finds that he can't fall asleep until he thinks about lustful hazel eyes watching him, hot breath in his ear, and a calloused hand on him, making him feel more safe and prized than his friends or family had ever made him feel in his whole life.

Yep, he's in deep shit and he hasn't even started his job yet.


End file.
